


Unbroken

by Airmid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 02:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8383951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airmid/pseuds/Airmid
Summary: Sam needs this to be real even more than his next breath.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly nebulous time - very early season 9

“Sam.”

This had to be a dream, fully in his subconscious. His sick, twisted subconscious that was still all jangled up and singed from Lucifer’s hands. This creature before him was dead and he knew somewhere deep inside he wasn’t far away from joining him even if the thought did slide away as easily as it came.

“Sam, pray to me.”

Gabriel was kneeling before him, six wings covering his form like a rusted sheet that had had all its vibrancy washed out long ago.

Sam moved his lips to offer a prayer he had prayed so many times before when he was young and believed in God, that archangels couldn’t die. He kept going to keep himself breathing because if he stopped everything would and the world didn’t need another dead hunter.

_Saint Gabriel, glorious Archangel, pray for us. Saint Gabriel, strength of God, pray for us. Saint Gabriel, who stands before the throne of God, pray for us._

He whispered the full litany until he was hoarse and finally woke.

* * *

 

“Sam.”

Those wings were pulled back more than they had been, not as dull as if deciding that maybe they too could be real. Sam wanted to sink his hands deep into their light. He had held onto too many false hopes to be let down by just one more.

“Pray to me. I want to hear you. I need to hear you.”

_O Captain and Leader of the armies of heaven, unworthy as we are, we beseech you without cease to surround us with your intercession and cover us beneath the shelter of the glory of your ethereal wings. We bend our knee and cry out with perseverance: “Deliver us from danger, O Prince of the Powers on high!” Amen._

Amen, amen, amen Sam thought as he prayed it over and over, long ago made rote.

* * *

 

“Sam.”

The wings were pushed back though the head was still bowed and Sam longed to touch him, to know what they felt like. If those wings were soft or harsh and scrapping filled with the purity of heat.

_I need you to be real._

“Pray to me.”

_Gabriel in the end you gave your life protecting us. I have suffered much due to my own mistakes. Cover me with your wings and find me worthy of your favor not for myself but for all those suffering, angel and human. I beseech you though I cannot be forgiven for the things I’ve done. Amen._

He couldn’t help the need in him that coiled tighter as each word pressed out. The drive to at least make this one thing right, something he couldn’t screw up like everything else.

* * *

 

“Sam.”

Trembling Sam walked up to him and put his hand under that chin. That need to touch, to be touched, was hollowing him out, digging cold unbearable places inside him.

“Be here,” he whispered.

He awoke alone to a feeling of power and rage. A gust of air, the sound of thunder shaking everything while Dean yelled from the hallway wanting to know what the hell was happening.

_Fly fast and strong Gabriel the Archangel. Save us from ourselves and from out transgressions against the most almighty God. Prepare the way for us to follow._

It seemed like the very heavens moaned at that moment, all of creation shuddering under the weight of this homecoming.

* * *

 

“Sam.”

He was before him now, fully standing and beautiful. Six wings shifted, gold and amber bleeding together as if trying to paint the perfect dawn.

_I cry out to you Gabriel the Archangel, wrath of heaven. I cry out to you and bend my knee. I cry out to you and want you to be real._

“So what have you been up to while I was so rudely indisposed?”

“Tried to close the gates of hell and took on some Leviathans.”

“Just that huh?”

Gabriel walked up to him, put a hand on his hip. Those golden eyes were looking deep within him and he felt shame. Everything that had gone wrong over the years: Dean, Cas, Lilith, the Leviathans, Metatron. All of it. He almost wanted Gabriel to kill him as he had no right to live anymore. All he touched turned to dust.

Fingers dug like a cold vice along his hip, punishing and bruising.

He awoke cold and alone when something inside him trembled.

* * *

 

“Sam.”

This couldn’t be a dream, he hadn’t fallen asleep that he had known of. He stared at Gabriel, his human vessel lithe and proud. Always with that trademark smirk and those eyes roamed over him unabashed.

“Since when did you start sharing real estate? I mean you _are_ a luxury model with the deluxe package and extra leg space but I just never had you pegged for giving it away.”

What?

Then he knew. All those missing seconds, minutes, hours. Those times where he had begun something only to find he was in the same action twenty minutes later. There was something wrong but he had never said yes. He had never condoned another being with him let alone an angel.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, the air vibrating in uneasy expectation.

“Tell him to leave Sam and I will heal you from the trials.”

Sam closed his eyes and focused, feeling the frightened angel finally trying to claw his way to the surface.

_Who are you?_

_Gadreel. I agreed to heal you for your brother._

Nice to know Dean had moved up to selling things that weren’t even his now.

_You need to get out._

There was so much light before the darkness came and claimed him.

* * *

 

“Sam.”

Gabriel was over him, looking tired but alive and it is all Sam can do from curling into those arms, from pressing into him. Because who would want the abomination?

“I would,” came the calm answer. “You held onto me, sunk those big meaty paws in like faith. I was so much dust on the cosmic highway but I could still hear you yammering.”

Damn mind reading angels. He was fairly certain there was a touch of fondness over him talking too much. Or praying or whatever he was doing that caused this.

Before Sam could really answer, could fully even comprehend he was healed, he felt Gabriel against him, the heat of his body. He remembered what those wings looked like.

“I don’t – why?”

“Just because you’re you,” was the response as a mouth found his and he yielded to it.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this a few weeks before Metafiction aired with all the talk about Gabriel returning. In all honesty I'm still not sure how I feel about it a few years and several rewrites later or if it works at all. Though I will say that if one person in the Supernatural universe did pray I always thought it would be Sam.
> 
> All the same thank you for reading.


End file.
